


Corruptio Optimi Pessima

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burnt bridges are hard to fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corruptio Optimi Pessima

She stood at the tent flap, one hand skimming the fabric. It was coarse, and real. “...Arcade?”

“Come in.”

She bit her lip, and did.

The doctor was hunched over his desk, the same one she had met him at only months ago. “What is it no-” He got halfway through the word before he turned towards the door. His mouth hung open, face frozen.

“Hey... Arcade.” Erin greeted, arms crossed in front of her, twisting a dial on her Pip-Boy.

He stared for a while longer, taking a breath in, but aborting it. Eventually, he got the words together. “What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

She ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s... strictly business, okay?”

Cautious, with no change in his expression, he replied, “I’m sure.”

“Look, I need your help.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” He put down the magnifying glass a little more forcefully than necessary, and stood. “You? Courier Six- or are you going by Lea now?”

“Arcade-”

“No, don’t...” He seethed, took a breath to keep from outright yelling. As angry as he was, it wouldn’t get his point across any better. “Don’t even _start_ with me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re scum.”

“I want to kill Caesar.” she blurted, and it stunned both of them into silence.

That had never lasted long around them. “You _what?_ Whatever happened to Heil Caesar!?”

“I was stupid, okay!? I’m stupid, and I make bad, impulsive decisions- and I’m a fucking wreck without you.”

The lamplight was dim as he stepped towards her, slowly. His voice started low. “...You should have thought of that. Ideally _before_ you raised a blood-red banner across half the Mojave! What’s wrong with you!?”

“Do you wanna kill Caesar, or not!?”

He shut his mouth. Swallowed. “I’m going to say this once, and if you answer with _anything_ but what I want to hear, every Follower of the Apocalypse in the continental United States will know what they call you in New Mexico.”

She nodded, sheepishly.

“Are we clear?”

She couldn’t look him in the eye. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Her stomach tied in an alpine butterfly at the pause. “...Get out.”

“Arcade-”

“Guards!”

Unwillingly escorted out of Old Mormon Fort, the Courier made it as far as Carlyle’s Shack before she broke down and cried.


End file.
